


Act Casual

by KirkwallsChamp



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Show Business, hookup, making your worklife awkard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkwallsChamp/pseuds/KirkwallsChamp
Summary: Television writer Varric Tethras and Director Cassandra Penteghast get more than they bargain for when they hire actress Hawke to portray their show’s front runner, the Champion of Kirkwall. A random club hookup complicates matters— but can Hawke and Varric put aside their creative differences to make things work?





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?” Hawke attempted to clarify over the din of the nightclub, pausing to push the mop of dark hair from her eyes to take in the sight before her.

The stranger beside her smiled back; the sort that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I asked if you wanted to step outside for a cigarette?” He clarified, motioning for the coat check before knocking back the rest of his whiskey.

“In a second,” she waved him off, “first, come dance! We’re at a club, after all—“

He shook his head, his chuckle drowned out by a thrumming base line, “I’m not usually much of a dancer.”

“Neither am I,” Hawke replied, shooting him her best impish grin, “in fact, I usually only come on ladies night— when the drinks are free. Now, come on!”

He wasn’t her usual type; in fact, dwarves seemed to be rare in Kirkwall at all, these days. He’d caught her eye earlier in the evening, when something the bartender had said caused him to smirk— the look was almost enticing enough to draw her in. In reality, however, it took her more drinks than she’d like to admit to garner the courage she needed to finally say something. 

“So if you’re not much of a dancer,” he shrugged, playfully allowing her to steer him away from the bar and onto the dance floor, “then why do so now?”

Hawke thought it over as a new song started, feeling the best course through her very core, “I need the adrenaline. and the change of pace. I’m an actress—“

She noticed the flare of his nostrils even in the dark of the room, but elected to ignore it, instead pulling him suddenly and playfully up against her. To her satisfaction, she felt his breath hitch ever so slightly in surprise. 

“I had an audition the other day,” she continued, turning around and taking his hands. She guided them from her waist down to her hips, before allowing him to take the lead.

“It went alright, I think, but I don’t know— I hate the way they make you wait, to know if you’ve gotten the part or not. So I came here. To do something different. Maybe crazy,”

As they danced to the music, she felt his palms slip flat against the dip in the front of her hips, eliciting a ping of excitement; seemed he was testing her limits. In response, she pushed her back flush to him, closing any remaining distance. 0She laughed inwardly, because she’d imagined it might have been harder than it was to dance with someone with such a height difference. Nonetheless, he seemed to do quite well for himself.

He attempted to carry on the conversation as his hips ground into hers, gently at first, until he could tell she was interested, “What was the audition for?”

By now she could feel what she might call his beginning to perk up; which in truth, was what she wanted after all. Now it was time for her to close the deal.

“Oh, let’s not talk about work anymore,” she bit her lip slightly, hoping no one else in the dance hall would notice as she slipped his hand closer to her inner thigh, “I think there’s something else we’d rather be getting to, don’t you?”

She glanced over her shoulder to gauge his reaction; while it was a bit hard to make out in the dark, she felt confident they were on the same page as his fingers tightened against her subconsciously. She stifled a groan.

“Lead the way,” he replied, stepping back to allow her room. She took his wide, rough hand and led him toward the front door of the club— only to pull him into the coat check, seeing that no one was around at the moment. She grabbed him rough by the collar of his v-neck, noting in the dim light the heavy metallic chain sitting amidst the thick coat of chest hair as her lips made contact with his. Her tongue ran roughly over his lips, bidding they part and allow her in, before she playfully nipped him. She felt a groan build quietly in the back of his throat, and she took the opportunity to grab him by the short hairs on the back of his neck. 

He tutted against her mouth, “so rough,” and she could feel that smirk again. She moaned back into his, “too rough?” Before teasing him again with her tongue.

“Just enough,” he growled back, his fingers intertwining into her hair, “but I think it’s time we get out of here. Lest we get caught and then thrown out, instead.”

They broke apart and she nodded, breathlessly, watching in amusement as he grabbed what was apparently his own coat before he led her out to the chill night air. 

“I don’t have a car,” she blurted out, as they walked, “not that I’d be safe to drive at this point anyway.” 

He laughed, the sound gravelly and inviting, “it’s okay— I’m calling us a cab.”

He paused for a moment, considering, “but if you’re too far gone, maybe we shouldn’t—“

She interrupted him with another deep kiss.

“No, no— if I’m honest, this is pretty much exactly what I came out tonight to find... Meaningless sex with a stranger, I mean.”

He laughed, which in turn caused her to laugh as they climbed into the back seat of the cab. The dwarven man gave his address to the cabby and they took off shortly after.

“So is this something you do often?” he asked, somewhat awkwardly, as she continued to kiss him, before moving down to the thick column of his neck.

She rolled her eyes, grazing her teeth across his pulse point— to her satisfaction, another groan rumbled through him.

“Shut up, and enjoy it,” she murmured into his skin. His eyes lolled slightly at the sensation. 

They’d made it to his apartment then, and after pressing cash into the thoroughly unimpressed cabby’s hands, they made their way up the path to his front door. They were both nearly out of breath when he unlocked the door, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter and slamming the door shut behind them. Hawke put two hands squarely on his shoulders and shoved him backwards onto a couch, before straddling his lap and kissing him deeply. His hands found her hips, digging his fingertips in and grinding up against her— setting a rhythm and pace he could tell she enjoyed. He could feel his cock begin to rise up against his tight jeans.

“Fuck—“ she moaned breathily into his ear, “you feel so good—“

“Haven’t even started yet,” he groaned in reply, thrusting hard against her again, before shakily attempting to undo his belt buckle. 

Still straddling him, she peeled off her shirt and tossed her bra aside, before pausing at a mortifying thought.

“Is there anyone else—?” 

The lilted half-question was laughed off by the man beneath her, as he dragged his own shirt off, “What? No, no— I live alone.” 

“Fantastic,” she sighed in relief, sliding back from the crook of his hips to unzip his pants for him. She dragged her hand against his length over what remained of his clothes, smirking as he involuntarily bucked up into her hand. 

His head pressed against the couch with all his strength, and his eyes screwed shut as he growled, “you’re quite the tease there,”

She stroked him again, agonizingly controlled, while chuckling, “You love it.”

“Fuck,” he moaned, his hands trailing up from her hips to her rib cage, his thumbs resting gently on the buds of her breasts, “that easy to read, huh?”

“I don’t mind,” she sighed, leaning into his touch, “makes things less complicated if you tell me what you want.”

One of his hands released her breast to brush some of the hair off her brow— the way he looked into her eyes so suddenly, and with such tenderness caught her off guard.

“I want to fuck you until you come. Hard.”

Without further ado, he dragged her close once again, rutting against her through their clothes, and lathering his tongue across her hard nipples, one at a time. She moaned loudly, her back arching in both the surprise and pleasure of the moment. When he released her with the wet pop of his lips, she slid away from his lap, begging him to lead her to the bedroom, where a traditional Orzamarr style bed set low on the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Hawke answered her phone as she unlatched the door of her cramped studio apartment, catching the call on it’s final ring.

“Hey, sorry—“ she sighed into the receiver, kicking her heels off and tossing her bag to her feet just inside the entrance, “Last night was crazy and I only just got home.”

The voice on the other side laughed lightly, “Had a little bit too much fun last night, then?”

Her cheeks flushed lightly, recalling the flurry of the evening’s memories, and the feeling of flesh on flesh. 

“I may have had a bit too much to drink,” she countered carefully, “as I sometimes do after a bad audition.”

“Bad? You thought it went that poorly?” The other girl’s voice sounded surprised.

“Well, yeah—“ Hawke was almost grateful to skip the subject of her one night stand, if only momentarily. That said, she didn’t want to particularly relive her audition, either, “But its ok, I didn’t really expect to hear back from them anyway... after all, it’s a leading role, and I’m still new to the business, so—“

“Hawke,” 

“Merrill?” She said back, echoing her friend’s tone of voice as she flopped onto the couch, looking out the window to the greenery beyond. The morning was still fresh and dewy, soft light filtering through the trees. 

“One of the perks of knowing the makeup artist on set is getting to hear the gossip, right?” Merrill interjected, somewhat mischievously.

Hawke’s breath caught in her throat, “No way.”

“Well, one of the rumors going around is that they may have found their lead from the last batch of auditions,” she continued, ignoring Hawke’s interjection, “And that they want to do a screen test, so we should get ready for that...”

Hawke sat bolt upright.

“Merrill, I swear, if you’re—“

“They gave me your headshot, Hawke,” Merrill’s shrug could practically be heard through the phone, “I think you’re being pretty heavily considered.”

Hawke squealed loudly, before apologizing for the loud outburst.

“Any idea when to expect the callback?”

“No,” Merrill answered, “sorry— this is all hearsay, except for the headshots being passed around. The business can move slowly, you know? The directors, producers, they all need to give their approval in the end, I think. Just... give them a little longer.”

“Alright,” Hawke signed, slumping back into the cushions once more, “So when did you hear about this?”

Merrill laughed, musically. “I just came out of a meeting about it, actually. Isabela and I stepped out for coffee, and I decided to call you.”

“So much for nondisclosure agreements, huh?” Hawke chuckled.

“Hey, be happy I let you know at all! It was hard enough pretending I didn’t know who you were in the meeting!” 

“What, you mean I didn’t come at your recommendation originally?” Hawke feigned outrage as she stared at the ceiling, throwing her legs over the back of the couch.

“It’s a competitive industry,” Merrill reasoned, “And it might be considered unfair. They know that I know you, though. I felt it best to disclose that to our director, when your picture was passed around. She didn’t seem to mind, though.”

“Oh good,” Hawke countered, “next thing you’ll see is some other actress’ headshots going around— one who isn’t your former roommate.”

“It could happen,” Merrill replied in a resigned way, “but it could also not. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

—-

“Varric— you’re late,” came the stern voice of the project’s director, Cassandra Penteghast, “we need your approval to move forward on our casting screen test.”

“Seeker, seeker, seeker,” Varric tutted in response, “You know I trust your judgement when it comes to these things. I’m just the source material supplier, after all. There’s a whole team of additional writers that can help with this, isn’t there?”

He handed her a coffee and a duck of his head as an apology, nonetheless.

“Do you at least want to see the headshots, for the Champion, or the Apostate?”

Varric waved the question away, “No no, just surprise me the day of. You like the story more than I do anyway, so I’m sure you gave the actors a good deal of consideration first.”

She flushed slightly at his insinuation, though it was only slightly a secret that she was a fan of his work. 

“Very well, then. We’ll send out the calls and line up the screen test for later in the week. Do you have the script finished, at least?”

“Just about,” he replied, flippantly as he turned on his heels to walk away, “I’ll get right on it after this smoke break, I promise.” 

She sighed, filtering slight anger and frustration through her nostrils as he exited her sight— the dwarf was a brilliant writer, but damned if he didn’t make others wait for it.


	3. Screen Test

Hawke received a callback a few days later, her excitement now intermingled with nerves. She was being asked to come in for a screen test before the role was officially offered to her, which meant things could now go one of two ways; she could succeed, and have her first real lead role, or she could fail, and go back to waiting tables as she’d been doing up until recently. 

She really wanted this. 

So, she mustered her courage and caught a cab to the set, her heart in her throat and stomach in knots as security checked her identification and bags, before allowing her through. 

Merrill, her roommate who now worked as a makeup artist on set, met her in a hallway lit by fluorescents, bringing her back to hair and makeup with hushed excitement buzzing around them. 

“You’ll never guess who got offered a supporting role and the other lead beside you—” She quipped, dabbing foundation over Hawke’s face as she spoke.

“Who?” Hawke asked, trying not to crinkle her nose in response.

“Isabela! She tried it on a whim, and the lead writer liked her well enough to give her the ok then and there. Isn’t that exciting?”

Hawke was surprised— the lead writer hadn’t been present for her audition, as far as she’d known— but for a supporting actress, they’d shown up, and decided immediately? She couldn’t help but be more than a bit jealous, to say the least. 

“I don’t think she’s in the screen test today, but, I thought it might encourage you to know you have a friend on set,” Merrill continued undeterred, as she cradled Hawke’s chin in her hand to apply a velvety red shade of lipstick. 

“Last but not least...” she trailed off, taking a swipe of red grease makeup on her thumb and sliding it across the bridge of Hawke’s nose, to her cheek.

“What’s that for?” Hawke asked quizzically.

“It’s your character’s trademark. something that makes her immediately visible— for merchandising apparently?” Merrill chuckled, showing Hawke a scrap of paper with her instructions on it; she shrugged.

“I guess it’s effective.”

From the door to the left of them, a behind the scenes staff member called out that it was time to do the screen test— Hawke gave Merrill one last nervous shrug before getting up and following to the set.

The director she’d met previously, Cassandra Pentaghast, gave her a handshake and a firm but not altogether unkind look as she introduced the actress’ scene partners: a lithe and slightly short elven man, Fenris, a muscular and imposing Qunari man, and a tall, willowy blonde man, Anders. They played _the escaped slave_ , _the Arishok_ , and _the Apostate_ respectively. From what Hawke had seen in the synopsis of the project, her character, _the Champion_ had a romantic moment with both the escaped slave and the apostate, but ultimately ended up falling for the apostate at the climax of the series.

To be honest, her stomach fluttered a bit at the prospect of acting out romantic scenes with two different men... She was brought out of her thoughts by the director giving a groan, however.

“Well, our writer insisted on being here, but again he is late... We don’t have the time to wait, so he’ll just have to review the footage once we’re done shooting. Let’s begin, shall we?”

They’d be reading off cue cards today: a scene in which the champion and her companions speak to the Arishok about a relic, stolen from his people. 

It started smooth enough— most of the dialogue was set up by the Arishok, his regal jewelry glinting in the studio lights. He sat in a throne-like chair elevated above the rest, giving them an imposing but regal look. Hawke regarded the Arishok with false confidence, stepping into her character’s role with relative ease, glancing back when the man called Anders injected his quip on cue. He made brief eye contact with her, and the smallest grin caught her by surprise. Fenris spoke next, crossing behind them and acting as a foil down stage from Anders. He had a quiet grace, and stepped with such soft control that he scarcely made a sound. As far as Hawke could tell, these two were cast well for their roles; she only hoped that she could live up to being the right choice as well. 

The sudden bright flash of a door opening caused a near break in Hawke’s concentration, as a small statured figure shuffled around in the darkness behind the camera. She managed to pick up momentarily, until he crossed through the studio’s soft back lights just quick enough to put Hawke’s heart in her throat, consequently jumbling her final line of the scene, as the man she’d had sex with only a few days before stared back at her. 

“Can we cut— Good of you to finally join us, Varric,” Cassandra growled sarcastically just loud enough for him to hear, shooting a severe look at him as he sat down. In the darkness on the set, Varric’s eyes locked on Hawke with an expression caught between humor and bewilderment, “though I think your entrance may have ruined this take.”

She addressed the cast next time, strong and clear, “Hawke, we must keep going, even when interruptions happen—“ 

Another sour look was thrown at the dwarf, 

“Can we start again with the Arishok’s line, concerning the Tal Vashoth?”

The actors nodded, Hawke’s ears burning under the studio lights. Everyone did their best to reset before action was called once again. 

Hawke closed her eyes to concentrate for a moment, though her mind raced— what was he doing there? Who was this man? She’d never expected to see him again! Could it possibly be just a trick of the light? She doubted it, but here and now she had to finish out strong— especially if she wanted to get the role.

The Arishok’s line came to an end and Hawke feigned her character’s charisma once again, accepting his proposal and promising to deliver.

She loved the Champion’s conviction; her confidence and her moral compass were something that Hawke wanted to be in real life — but she also liked to put her own spin on things, and interpret the character in an ever so slightly different way. The Champion as written was confident, and as one who did what was right; Hawke would stick with that, of course, but she couldn’t help but toss in some mischievous inflection, or to play some lines as jokes— she wanted the audience to be intrigued by the character. She could tell by the way that the Apostate played off of her, that he was drawn in. It felt like a good sign. 

The scene ended with the camera panning beyond them, to a shot of the cityscape that would be added in post. Cut was called, and everyone visibly relaxed. The Qunari playing the Arishok gave her a smile and a wink as he descended from the throne, which gave her heart a little flutter— how was she managing to be attracted to everyone on set so far. 

“All right, everyone— I believe that is a wrap. Mr. Tethras and I will be discussing the screen test, among other things, over the coming days, and you can expect to hear back from us within the week. For now, relax, take a breath, and enjoy some of the service table before they close up shop for the day,” Director Penteghast summed up her speech, and got up from the chair behind the camera, motioning for the crew to start tearing down. 

Hawke suppressed her nerves with a sharp huff, trying to relax now that the scene was over. There was nothing she could do now, but hope— 

Hope, and try to steal a look over at the dwarf murmuring pointedly with Cassandra over the camera playback. He sat nonchalantly in his seat, his eyes transfixed on the playback as he spoke— until his gaze snapped up to meet hers with such a force that she nearly jumped. 

His lip raised in a smirk, acknowledging her as she tried to look away, heat creeping into her ears.

Oh, good. So he did recognize her— and what’s more, he knew she recognized him.

How could she not? Her mind jumped back to his body— naked, rippling with corded muscle and dusted with tawny hair. She remembered the way his calloused, wide palms felt flat against her hips, and she cursed the warmth spreading in her gut.

_I need a smoke._

She turned to run and smacked directly into Anders, who very narrowly avoided spilling some kind of red punch on his feathery costume. Mortified, she felt her mouth drop open in surprise as she stood stock still in front of him.

“I’m so sorry—“ she blurted out, once she found her voice at last. 

He chuckled, surprisingly softly, as he shook red liquid off his hand, “No, I’m sorry— I was bringing you a drink to introduce myself, and I got too close without saying anything. Did I get any on you?”

He seemed gentle in demeanor— not quite what she’d expected when she imagined the quick witted and powerfully Justice-aligned Apostate character. She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear as she answered him, “No— no, I think it missed me. I— I’d better get this back to the costume department, though, before I do any more damage... I, think I need some air, after that.”

“Mind if I tag along?” He asked, good naturedly. 

She felt more heat in her cheeks as she allowed him to lead the way, disappearing from sight behind the doors leading beyond the studio.


End file.
